


Loud

by EmberForge



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Introspection, using my childhood trauma as fic fuel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 02:06:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15208463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmberForge/pseuds/EmberForge
Summary: Everything about Molly's appearance is chosen with great care.





	Loud

It’s not with pride that Mollymauk thinks about his appearance. It’s with necessity.

He's gotten used to being teased about how clean and well groomed he is. While he’s no stranger to getting his hands dirty to meet an objective, he’s always the first one to run towards the bath once it’s over. They tell him that there’s no need to be afraid of a little dirt. But he still remembers a time when it felt like the mud would never wash out of his skin, when he felt suffocated, clogged in every pore, everything brown, brown, brown, and what wasn't brown was black, and he’ll do anything to avoid feeling that way any more than is necessary.

He's colorful and ostentatious. He knows that. And he’s gotten as many complaints as he has compliments about it. He’s been told that his appearance is too garish, to conspicuous, too _loud._ But that’s just how he wants it to be. There’s no way he’s not seen by everyone and anyone that crosses his path. He doesn’t blend in with the foliage - he rivals the sun with his brightness. Sometimes on bad days when he wakes up surrounded by blackness with a scream caught in his throat and the feel of phantom earth pressing all around him, it's the violet of his coat, bright and bold, that brings him back to reality.

And what about his jewelry? It’s so excessive, they say. It creates such a racket as he jaunts along. It’s so very distracting. But Molly just thinks about that old wives tale, though he can't remember where he first heard it. Of people being so terrified of being buried alive that they attached bells on their graves so that the they could ring them if a mistake had been made, if they weren't quite past their prime. He sometimes will shake his head with more force than is necessary to hear the jingling of the jewellery adorning his horns. To make sure that everyone can hear that he's _alive_.)

And that's the whole thing, isn't it? Letting people know he's alive. Letting _himself_ know that he's alive. Making sure no one makes a mistake this time. Making sure no one makes a mistake ever again.

And if they try to bury him once more?

Well, he’s got two swords, and whatever way it plays out, it _will_ end in blood.

**Author's Note:**

> I was traumatized as a child by touring a victorian recreation village and hearing about the bells on graves (I was then terrified of being alive - also at that age I was already terrified of death and Jesus - it was a rough time) and for some reason I was thinking about it the other day when my mind suddenly shouted, THAT'S WHY MOLLY'S SO LOUD. 
> 
> Anyone else think this, or is it just me?


End file.
